


coming up for light

by sassymajesty



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Teachers, F/F, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 13:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3852094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassymajesty/pseuds/sassymajesty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slowing her pace as she gets to Ms. Reyes classroom, Abby brushes her hair away from her face, tucking the stubborn strands behind her ear before peaking inside - first she takes a fond look at the pictures the teacher keeps on her door, along with a few drawings by her students, and it doesn’t take her long to find both a drawing her daughter made and a toothy grin framed by blonde hair.</p><p>teacher/single parent au</p>
            </blockquote>





	coming up for light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meqhanory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meqhanory/gifts).



She’s late - again.

For the third time that week Abby sprints down the preschool hallway, paying no mind to the finger paintings decorating the walls that would usually captivate her attention. Her sneakers squeak against the polished floor as she makes her way to her daughter’s classroom, knowing she looks less than presentable - checking in on a patient after performing a surgery on another took a turn for the worse as said patient hadn’t agreed with his lunch, that ended up all over her.

Hence why scoming up for lighthe was jogging in navy blue scrubs at 5pm when the school day was over by 3pm.

Slowing her pace as she gets to Ms. Reyes classroom, Abby brushes her hair away from her face, tucking the stubborn strands behind her ear before peaking inside - first she takes a fond look at the pictures the teacher keeps on her door, along with a few drawings by her students, and it doesn’t take her long to find both a drawing her daughter made and a toothy grin framed by blonde hair.

A smile instantly finds its way to her lips as the scene inside the classroom greets her. Her four year old daughter sits comfortably on her teacher’s lap, blue crayon on her left hand as she furiously color her drawing while holding two other crayons in her right hand, tongue peeking out as she focuses on the task at hand. Abby can almost hear as she begins to babble about something, her teacher nodding along and listening closely to her mumbled words - Abby knows she’s mumbling, she always does when she gets too excited about something - as she braids her long blonde hair into a neat French braid.

Abby knocks lightly on the door, announcing her presence but wishing not to startle them, and opens the door, an apologetic look on her face as Ms. Reyes looks up. “I am so sorry,” the words stumble out of Abby’s mouth before she was even completely inside, “The surgery ran for longer than I expected, and I couldn’t reach Clarke’s usual babysitter to come and pick her up.” She walks over to them, kissing the top of a very blonde head before taking a step back to look at the teacher once more, “I know it’s the third time this week, and I’m looking for a nanny to get her everyday since apparently getting a better schedule at work doesn’t seem possible.” She takes a breath, realizing she was rambling, “I’m really sorry.”

Raven shrugs slightly and smiles, easing her clearly building anxiety. It wasn’t the first time Abby had complained about how incredibly unpredictable and plain busy the life of a surgeon could be. Ms. Reyes had been a good ear to cry on at parent-teachers meetings, when the teacher emphasized developments on Clarke she herself hadn’t had time to notice. And she was polite enough to always listen when Abby ranted about the lack of good and trustworthy nannies and how much being a doctor could take out of you.

“No worries,” Raven clips Clarke’s hair in place, making sure the braid will stay on at least until bath time, and nudges her, tickling the toddler playfully, who giggled without losing the focus on her drawing, “We had fun, didn’t we, munchkin?”

“We did,” Clarke nods vigorously, painting the corners of her paper, “We tidied the class up then we eated fruit and crackers and juice and then we played with play-doh, I made a princess and Ms. Reyes made a tiara and now I’m painting and Ms. Reyes is turning me into a princess. The braid means I’m a princess, mommy.” Clarke talks fast, forgetting to breathe and to pause in between words. Her cheeks are flustered and the two women are probably the only ones in a ten mile range that could understand what she means, “Mommy, come see.”

Watching her daughter jumping excitedly on her teacher’s lap makes Abby curse herself for choosing a career that made her work such long hours. She had forgotten how many times she had promised to herself she would sit down and play with Clarke - but more often than not she would give her the iPad to keep her entertained while she took a nap.

Guilt spread on her chest as she approaches her daughter, dropping her bag on the floor as she rubs her tiny back and kisses the side of her head. “Wow, this is beautiful!” She exclaims excitedly and she means it. Clarke has a good hand for drawing, and it shows on her sloppy lines around her dragon’s wings. “We’re going to frame it and put it in mommy’s office, what do you think?”

Clarke squeals as her mother kisses her cheek soundly and shortly after focus once more, giving the final touches to her masterpiece. As she leans down against the table, propping her chin on her fist, Abby finds herself less than three inches apart from Raven. A shiver runs down her spine as Raven smiles, seemingly unaware of their closeness.

Raven is attractive. But she’s also Ms. Reyes, Clarke’s favorite teacher, the one who stays past her work day to care after her daughter.

It’s challenging enough to raise a child on her own while working sixty hours a week. She does not need an infatuation to make it harder for her to focus on the thing that matters the most.

Clearly her suddenly tight throat, Abby straightens up and pats Clarke’s head softly, “Sweetie, why don’t you go get your things? I’m sure Ms. Reyes wants to go home.”

Clarke mumbles a defeated “okay” as she climbs down from Raven’s lap and skips her way towards the cupboard where she left her things in the morning, putting everything down and into her backpack. Abby watches her for a moment, wondering what she would have done if Raven had decided to leave. From her peripheral view, she sees the teacher standing up to gather her own things - she remembers more than actually sees the toned arms, the long neck and the sharp jaw - and a wave of gratitude rushes through her, so strong she almost loses her balance.

“Ms. Reyes,” she starts, only to be cut off by a waving hand.

“Please, call me Raven,” she answers promptly as she puts crayons back on their cases and takes the drawing, handing it to Abby, “There you go.”

“Thanks… Raven.” Abby tries it out, deciding the name tastes good on her lips, much less formal. She returns to what she had in mind, carefully holding the drawing so it wouldn’t wrinkle, “You’ve been so fantastic with Clarke, I can’t thank you enough,” Raven lights up, her eyes softening as she smiles, “I was wondering if I could take you out for dinner one of these days. This Saturday, if you’re free.”

Abby knows it’s more than a little unconventional, but she really wants to do something nice for Raven. But she soons realize she must have offended the teacher somehow as she watches her blushing, the tip of her ears bright red as she turns to watch Clarke fight her shoes, exposing a very flustered neck as well.

“I’m not really allowed to date my students’ parents,” Raven says reticently, and Abby doesn’t understand immediately what she means. Confusion clouds her features as she watches Raven playing with a pencil on her desk, until something finally clicks inside her mind.

“Oh.” Abby says weakly as Clarke runs towards them, all bundled up in her coat and shoes in the right feet, backpack swinging on her back right until she bumps against her mother’s legs, announcing she’s ready to leave, “I meant it as a way to say thank you - for staying with Clarke way past the time you’re supposed to so many times.”

The blush on her neck gets four shades darker as Raven stumbles to find words, “Oh my god, i am so sorry. I didn’t mean to- I shouldn’t- I’m-” Abby can’t help a grin as she sees the young teacher stuttering, and she masks it by bending to pick up Clarke, who gladly wraps her legs around her mother’s waist, “I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“It’s okay, I understand how it might have sounded like I was asking you out on a date,” Abby brushes it off and tries to ignore how her heart sped up - she didn’t say no when she thought she was being asked on a date, “How does 8pm work for you?”

* * *

She’s late.

She had set this dinner to make up for being constantly late to pick her daughter up. But she’s running down the stairs, her heels in one hand as she struggles to put her earrings on with the other, when she should’ve been out of the door at least twenty minutes ago.

As Abby reaches the living room, her frown softens into a smile. Maya, her neighbor’s teen daughter who more often than not is her go to babysitter, had given Clarke a warm bath while she busied herself getting ready and now she was greeted by the cutest scene. Her toddler who had been running around in her underpants screaming some unholy song from the cartoon she was currently obsessed with was now lying on her side, bottle firmly held in between her hands as she sucked lazily on it, curled up in a ball watching a Disney movie.

Forgetting about how late she is for a moment, Abby sits beside her on the couch, brushing her wet hair away from her face. Clarke closes her eyes at the caress and Abby can tell she’ll be out as a light not long after she leaves.

“Are you going on a date?” Maya whispers excitedly, taking Abby’s place and fixing Clarke’s space themed pajamas. Abby takes a moment to think it over - she certainly did dress for a date, if her dress is anything to go by. She convinced herself it was appropriate, but truth is, she didn’t have much opportunities to wear a form fitting dress with a sweetheart neckline that showed more of her cleavage then she should.

“No, honey. Just taking Clarke’s teacher for dinner” Abby brushes it off casually as she slips into her heels, leaning in to kiss Clarke good night, “Be good for Maya. See you soon, princess.”

Clarke mumbles something that resembles a goodbye, which undoubtedly makes Abby smiles fondly, before letting her eyes fall close again. The doctor takes that as her cue to leave - she glances at the clock and pretends not to see she has five minutes to make it to a restaurant fifteen minutes away, with good traffic.

“It could still be a date, you know?” Maya teases as she closes the door behind Abby after promising to finish her own homework as soon as Clarke was asleep and call her if there were any emergencies.

Letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, Abby walks over to her car, praying to get all the stoplights green.

When she finally gets to the restaurant, she can’t help but be glad this isn’t a date. If it was, Abby showing up almost half an hour after the time they had agreed on wouldn’t be the best of the first impressions.

“I am so sorry,” Abby pleads before she even sits down, dropping her bag on the backrest as she all but drops herself on the chair as well. Focusing her attention on the woman in front of her instead of that jackass who blocked her on Second Avenue, Abby realizes Raven might as well have dressed for a date. Her leather jacket barely disguise how low cut her shirt underneath is, a bird pendant dangling in the valley between her breasts, and she wears her hair down - Abby had no idea she had such long curls, as it was always neatly tied in a bun.

“It seems like all of our conversations start like this,” Raven teases, resting her elbows on the table as she smiles at Abby, “Is it bad that I assumed you’d be late and got here less than five minutes ago?”

Holding her hand up to get the waiter’s attention, Abby chuckles softly, “Weren’t you just trying to get back at me?” She watches delighted as Raven lets out a heartfelt laughter, and Abby thinks it’s safe to assume that, yes, Raven did plan to make her wait.

“Now why would I ever do that?” Raven winks as the waiter approaches them, handing each of them a menu as he recites the specials of the day. They choose their drinks and ask for a little more time to decide on their meals, and Abby pretends her stomach doesn’t flutter when the waiter tells them to enjoy their date.

As she scans the salads, Abby wonders what it looks like to an outsider. She’s biased, she’s well aware of that - even being as conflicted as she is as to what this evening means, she would most certainly enjoy a date with someone like Raven. But winking and teasing sound a lot like something one would do at a date. And then there’s Raven’s neckline; which she is not staring at, or wanting to stare at - she’s looking at her necklace. She should ask if the bird in her pendant is a raven.

“Abby?” Raven’s voice snaps her out of her reverie, and she must have spaced out for longer than she realized - the waiter is back and Raven got her glass of wine down by half in the meantime.

“Yes? Oh, I’ll take the pesto salmon and orzo salad, please,” she asks the two first things she remembers reading, trying to sound nonchalant, as if she weren’t only a hair shy of creepily staring at her daughter’s teacher’s cleavage.

She hands the menu back with a polite smile and looks at her hands while Raven orders, playing with the band that has been firmly placed on her ring finger for the last seven years. Taking a deep steadying breath, Abby realizes she’s overthinking. She isn’t really used to having a meal with another grown up, not since her husband died - most of her nights are spent either beside a three-year-old that pays more attention to her imaginary friend than to her or with her hands fixing someone’s insides.

Honestly, she’s lucky if she makes it out of this meal unscarred - if she manages to make up for all the countless hours Raven spent babysitting Clarke when she most certainly shouldn’t have to, well, then she can consider this night a success.

As the waiter leaves, Abby turns her attention back to the woman in front of her, who looks almost as out of place as her. She realizes spending your days with a herd of toddlers barely prepares you for this situation either. “Your pendant, is that a raven?”

She decides to just try and get to know the woman her daughter spends most of her time with, and, hopefully, enjoy nice food.

Raven takes a sip from her wine, “It is, actually. Is it too cheesy?” Abby smiles and shakes her head no, but refrains from admitting it’s endearing, “My boyfriend has a way with metal work, he made it for me. Well, ex-cheating-son-of-a-bitch-boyfriend.” Her tone is light and playful, and Abby smiles, taking a large gulp from her drink, almost feeling what the follow up question would be, “What about Clarke’s dad? I haven’t seen him at school, he must be a very busy man.”

“Jake used to be an engineer,” it’s been almost two years, but as soon as the name leave her lips Abby feels the familiar fist tightening around her heart. “He passed away a few weeks after Clarke’s first birthday.”

Her standard smile appears automatically, polite enough to let people know she didn’t need comforting, but Raven’s features cloud and she reaches across the table to cup the older woman’s hand in her own, “I’m so very sorry, Abby.” Raven squeezes her fingers briefly, letting go quickly and making Abby all but miss the touch, “I saw your ring and I- it must have been insanely hard to- Wow, now I really don’t blame you for being late all the time.”

Grateful for the change of mood, Abby jumps in at the playful tone, “Oh, so you did hold a grudge, didn’t you?” She watches from behind her glass as Raven rolls her eyes and smiles, and Abby can feel the tension leaving her as she teases, “Who would’ve known a preschool teacher could be so bitter?”

“You’ve clearly never met New York’s teachers,” Raven answers in a similar tone that makes Abby smile, eager to hear more about all the kinds of preschool teachers.

“Is that where you’re from?” Abby is almost surprise to realize she’s actually interested in knowing more about Raven, getting ready to ask about her childhood and ignoring the nagging voice in her head that says her eagerness to learn everything about the woman might be something more than a simple way to make up for being late to pick up her daughter.

They both slip easily into a nice conversation, the atmosphere at their table flowing from awkward and tense to pleasant and amiable. They cover the basics before their food arrives - as Raven takes the first bite of her chicken, Abby is telling her about her favorite band, the one she ditched a final in med school for, and promises to send a CD with her favorite songs with Clarke on Monday.

Unsurprisingly, the conversation steers toward Clarke. From first words to her latest adventure on the playground, they cover it all. Abby laughs as Raven’s face twitches in fear as she tells her about how difficult her labor was, and Abby orders more wine as the teachers tells her how Clarke mumbles songs during her nap.

Abby is still engaged in a story about how Clarke almost found out who Santa Claus really is last Christmas when they step outside, the chilly night air rising goose bumps on her arm. Only then, as she looks over to Raven with her hands tucked inside the pockets of her jacket and the brightest smile on her face, is that Abby realizes how much she needed this.

“Thank you, Raven, for tonight,” the name feels good on her lips, way better than “Ms. Reyes” ever did. Abby’s gaze finds hers - for a split moment, she lets herself be distracted by how the city lights plays shadows on her warm brown eyes - and she sees nothing but understanding on her eyes.

“You can be late next week too if you want to do this again,” Raven smirk is lopsided and Abby is pretty sure she’s flirting, but brushes it off quickly. The last thing she wants is to ruin what could be a really good friendship, “Where did you park? I’ll walk you.”

They cross the street as Abby spots her car, and she won’t admit, not even to herself, that she didn’t want this night to end just yet. “Right-” the first thing she notices is a flat tire, “-here.” Her hands curl into a tight fist and she sighs heavily - she’s not in the mood to change a tire, ”Shit,” Abby curses under her breath, fishing her phone out of her bag, ready to look online for a tow truck service nearby. She had a flat tire earlier that week, she didn’t have time to get another spare tire.

Raven must feel her uneasiness as she puts her hand on the small of her back, stilling her movements, “Put the alarm back on, I’ll drive you home. You don’t work tomorrow, right? You can deal with it then,” the younger woman presses her hand softly, willing Abby to follow her, “Come on. I promise I’m a good driver.”

Smiling gratefully, Abby nods quickly, motioning for Raven to lead the way. If she feels tears prickling the back of her eyes, she’ll assume the wind is to blame - it really has nothing to do with Raven being this perceptive.

Raven opens the passenger door for her and Abby takes a moment to fall back in that comfortable place, quickly ignoring her car failing her and trying to not let this minor thing upset her - it did buy her more time with her- her friend.

After giving directions to her home, they pick up their talk where they left - Raven pays attention to the road as Abby talks about how she plans on throwing a birthday party for Clarke soon and asks for her opinion on bringing the party to the preschool. Raven responds in kind, giving her tips on what to avoid and what everyone would love, and Abby finds herself staring at her profile.

Sighing, Abby can’t help herself as she follows the curves on Raven’s face, appreciating her sharp jaw line and how the vein on her neck jumps as she talks about some kid’s allergies, trailing her collar bone. She has her bottom lip in between her teeth as she feels Raven’s hand sliding down her arm, taking her own hand in hers.

“You okay?” Raven asks and it takes Abby a second to realize they’re in front of her house - and that she has probably been staring at Raven’s neck for more than it’s appropriate. She nods and tightens her grip on the younger woman’s hand before letting it go, unbuckling her seatbelt.

As she turns to thank Raven for the ride and bid her goodnight, Abby realizes she’s getting out of the car as well. Her throat tightens, and she doesn’t dare to imagine anything. It’s more than likely she just wants to see Clarke - even though it’s almost 11pm and Clarke has been asleep for hours, she doesn’t dare to hope.

Abby closes the door as she gets out, only to find Raven standing awkwardly in front of her, her hands in the back pockets of her jeans as she all but sways from side to side. “What is it?” Abby questions, the worst scenarios running through her mind. Will she say she hated this evening? It certainly doesn’t look like good news.

“It’s just that-” Raven smirks shyly and tosses her hair over her shoulder, keeping it away from her face as the wind blows and she takes a step closer to Abby, “This is when I usually kiss my date goodnight.”

She tries to ignore the fluttering in her stomach, looking over Raven’s shoulder for a second as she wets her lips, poorly hiding her grin, “I thought this wasn’t a date.” Abby lets her bag fall from her shoulder and takes a step forward, contradicting everything she had been convincing herself of the entire night.

“Well,” Raven grows bolder and reaches up, brushing blonde hair away from Abby’s face, “It sure felt like one.” Abby braces herself for what she knows is about to come, but nothing prepares her to Raven softly pulling her face towards hers, hovering their lips close and looking into her eyes for a moment before closing the distance. She feels hand on the small of her back and Abby sighs into the kiss, clinging to Raven’s jacket, either for balance or pure want.

It had been years since Abby had a first kiss and she feels like she might float away any moment now.

Raven brushes her lips against Abby’s one last time, sucking lightly on her bottom lip before letting it go. Abby still has her eyes closed when she hums, willing her body to step away from the newly found warmth, something in the back of her mind telling her she had to send a sixteen-year-old home.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise when all she does is lean in closer, but it still does.

“So,” Abby opens her eyes, feeling them heavy with something that doesn’t feel like sleep, and takes a deep steadying breath, feeling like an awkward teenager again when she says the first thing that comes to mind, “Do you want to help me with my car tomorrow?”

“Bring Clarke, we’ll make a day out of it.”

As she leans in for another kiss, she thinks that maybe Raven doesn’t want to stay away from her for long either.


End file.
